Acts of Kindness
by Fenik
Summary: Shizuo returns home from work one day to find the flea passed out on his floor. Is it a trap or is Izaya in trouble?


Shizuo exhaled heavily as he kicked off his shoes. It had been a tough day guarding Tom and he was looking forward to lying on the couch and flipping idly through channels before he eventually grew hungry enough to tentatively venture into the cramped kitchen of his apartment.

Shuffling tiredly into his bedroom, he pulled off his vest and emptied his pockets onto the dresser. He sighed at the familiar silence that came with living alone, and turned and flopped backwards onto his bed, wanting to at least momentarily pretend that his apartment wasn't – wait…what the hell was that? Was that…a cough?

Instantly, he leapt off the bed, his hand already creeping towards the nearest throwable object. He strained his ears to catch the sound again, waiting tensely for any sign of an attacker. Minutes passed and nothing but the sound of the ringing in his ears could be heard.

Shizuo finally allowed himself to relax, the cough must've come from a neighbouring household; these apartments were built with barely any material in the walls between them. Lightly chuckling at his own paranoid reaction, he made his way back out, heading towards his living room.

He slid over the back of his couch, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to free them from weariness. Blindly reaching out for the tv remote, he accidentally fumbled with it and it fell onto the floor with a strange thud. Confused at the noise, Shizuo opened one of his eyes and finally located the source of the cough.

Shizuo would forever deny the strangled yelp of surprise that escaped him at catching sight of Izaya's collapsed form on the edge of his living room carpet, however his neighbours could testify at the crashing thump that resonated through the floor as Shizuo promptly jumped up and fell over the back of his couch.

Ignoring the flush threatening to rise on his cheeks at his inelegant reaction, he took a moment to gather his thoughts behind his sofa. This could be one of the flea's traps after all. And he'd be damned if he let that bastard get the best of him this time. Peering around the side of his couch at the unmoving form, he would have commended Izaya's realistic acting abilities…had he not been Izaya.

Shizuo briefly wondered whether he should just drag him out the door, injured or not. That could leave an opening for the information broker to attack though…much safer to just leave him so he could play his sick joke alone. Leaving him to do as he pleased in Shizuo's own apartment though…that sounded like a good opportunity to let the flea get the upper hand.

The rage ability that Izaya somehow manifested in him took effect, and he scowled in annoyance before straightening up from the floor and walking around to look closer at the limp body on his carpet.

The raven-haired information broker was curled slightly on his side and the hood of his fur-lined jacket hid his face, leaving him unable to see whether Izaya's eyes were open. Shizuo warily eyed Izaya's hand that was clutching at his stomach but decided to simply go with his first idea. In any case, there were numerous weapons available to him if this all was another plan for the flea's amusement. Namely, the couch. Also, the lamp on the coffee table had looked as though it had needed replacing anyway.

Reaching out, Shizuo grabbed the collar of Izaya's jacket, preparing to lug him outside before proceeding to throw anything close by at the dark-haired man in order to force him to leave. It was when Izaya made no move to resist him and the nauseating smell of blood finally reached him that Shizuo realised that something was incredibly wrong with the infamous information broker of Ikebukuro.

He paused, extremely confused on how to proceed with this situation. Izaya still hadn't moved, and Shizuo couldn't even tell if the raven-haired male was breathing. An involuntarily wave of sudden concern hit the bodyguard and he found himself leaning closer. It was no question that he wanted Izaya dead, but the flea was only allowed to die at Shizuo's hand. His eyebrows quirked in shock as he saw something dark had seeped through to the front of Izaya's jacket; instinctively, he knew it was blood.

Taking a step back to escape the caustic smell permeating his senses, he ran a hand through his shaggy hair, completely at a loss. Here laid the one who had made his life a nightmare ever since they had first set eyes on each other. The one he had tried to exact revenge on for years, to kill even.

He hadn't been the one to wound Izaya badly enough to kill him, but he now had the chance to be the one to end it. All the frustration, all the chases, all the fights. Shizuo felt he should be cheering at being given front-row seats to his enemies' last breath. Still, here he was – hesitant.

Growling at the confusion he was feeling, he exhaled in frustration and said, "Fuck it. Shinra can deal with the flea."

Practically stomping back into his bedroom to retrieve his phone, he angrily punched the numbers in before shoving the cell up to his ear. "Shinra here~" the doctor cheerfully chirped into his ear, and Shizuo barely kept himself from snapping.

"Shinra, Izaya's here. I think he's dead, but you better get Celty to come pick him up, I don't want his fucking corpse on my floor," he ground out, rubbing the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the tension building there.

"Izaya? What?" his friend asked in bewilderment, "You had another fight?"

"No. He was already here," Shizuo explained shortly, "Just send Celty."

"She's already on her way," Shinra informed him, making Shizuo bemusedly wonder whether he and the rider shared some sort of telepathic link.

Grabbing the packet of cigarettes on the table, Shizuo quickly lit one up. The doctor's voice cut in again and Shizuo bit down on the cigarette in irritation, "Shizuo, can you have a look at him? Tell me what's wrong so I can prepare for it over here."

He was about to ask the doctor if he really had to, but then realised how childish he would've sounded and settled for an annoyed grunt before trudging back to his living room. Izaya hadn't budged from his place on Shizuo's floor and Shizuo briefly wondered whether the informer had actually already died. "Does he have a pulse?" Shinra's voice broke through his thoughts.

Shizuo frowned before crouching down and reaching out a hand to brush the informer's pale throat. Being careful to avoid the blood congealing around Izaya's collarbone, Shizuo pressed his fingers against his skin, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt no beat. "There's nothing," he said into the phone.

Truth be told, Shizuo was feeling something close to unease. Izaya couldn't die like this, it was…unbefitting. Shizuo had to be the one to kill him. Although it felt conceited, Shizuo also felt as though Izaya would only submit to death if it was at his hands.

The bodyguard was so lost in his ruminations that he almost missed the lethargic pulse beneath his extended fingers. "Shinra, there's a faint beat. I barely even felt it," he informed the doctor.

"Ah," Shinra sighed, sounding almost relieved, "Celty is nearly there. She said she'll meet you at the front."

"Out the front? She wants me to _carry him_?" Shizuo almost shouted, dropping the filter of his cigarette onto the carpet.

Hastily stomping out the cigarette, he frowned again at Shinra's overly-cheerful intonation. "Yep, she'll be-"

Shizuo didn't wait for the doctor to finish and hung up the phone and shoved it back into his trouser pocket. He didn't want to break another one so soon.

Eyeing the bane of his existence, he released a frustrated tch before extending both hands towards Izaya. He considered just slinging him over his shoulder or even just dragging him out by the jacket collar, though changed his mind halfway through and instead hefted the unconscious informer to his chest. The flea was already nearly dead, he didn't need to help it along by being rough with him. It was mildly disconcerting to Shizuo how close to a rag doll Izaya seemed in his grip, with his head lolling over the back of his arm and his form feeling like a dead weight.

Looking down at Izaya's face as he walked towards the door to his apartment, he was struck by how innocent the cruel manipulator appeared without the trademark smirk. Had it been anyone but Izaya, Shizuo almost would have believed it. The flea had no innocence left in him, and Shizuo was doubtful of whether he'd ever had any to start with.

A sudden text message brought him back to reality and he realised that Celty must already be waiting. As Shizuo rushed down the flights of stairs towards the entrance, accidentally banging Izaya's leg on the railing, he told himself that he was rushing because he couldn't wait to get rid of the flea.

When he caught sight of Celty waiting by the fence, he refused to acknowledge the feeling that she wouldn't make it in time. Only meters away from the disguised horse, Celty extended her arms to take the unconscious man from him. He lowered Izaya onto the seat of the bike, relying on Celty's skill to keep him from falling. The black rider's bike whinnied before tearing off down the street, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes in its wake.

It took Shizuo three days.

He'd just finished throwing around a group of men who had chosen the wrong day to make a snide comment, and Tom had wisely sent him home before it grew further out of hand. Shizuo had instead gone to the park; hoping it would cool the temper which had been steadily rising since the day he'd found the flea bleeding out on his living room floor. So far, nothing had helped.

He pulled out his phone and flipped it open. Shizuo misjudged the effort and snapped it clean in half. Swearing under his breath, Shizuo bit down on the cigarette in his mouth and continued to laze on the uncomfortable bench he had claimed. "Maybe it's for the best," he murmured.

A slight breeze drifted past, briefly lessening his frustration with its caress. A trio of kids still in their blue school uniforms wandered past, heading towards Simon's sushi restaurant. Shizuo found himself smiling involuntarily, the familiar uniforms had brought up some old memories of his high school life. The smile fell into a menacing grimace as Izaya found his way into Shizuo's peaceful reminiscing.

"That damn flea," Shizuo growled out, frightening a pair of girls walking past.

He paid no mind as they glanced at each other and hurried away, he had more important thing to consider. How he was going to make Izaya pay for ruining his rug and couch with his blood, for example. That rug had cost him a fortune. He didn't even know why – it was just a rug. It's not like he'd bought one made of gold or something.

Really though, he should go and thank Celty for getting there so quickly. To take the flea off his hands, he added belatedly. And if Izaya was still there, then all the better. Since he would be able to exact his vengeance, he lamely added.

Standing abruptly, he sent a flock of curious birds scattering. One of them panicked and flew straight into the hair of one of the girls that had walked past. She screamed and flailed.

Shizuo didn't notice. He was going to Shinra's.

Shizuo made it all the way to Shinra's front door before he'd encountered a problem. He couldn't seem to go inside.

The closed wooden door seemed to mock him in its frame and it took all of his remaining patience not to simply rip it off its hinges. Diminishing daylight threw rose-coloured beams across the floor from the hallway window; a beautiful scene, but Shizuo was in no mood to appreciate it.

The pressure of a hand patted his shoulder and he turned in surprise only to see the black rider herself. She raised a hand in greeting. He nodded in return. Her sleek phone shot out of her sleeve and she hastily tapped away before showing him the screen. "Is everything alright?"

"I came to thank you," Shizuo explained, feeling guilty without knowing why.

She erased her message and typed again. "I see. Would you like to come in?"

Shizuo inclined his head and stepped aside to allow her to unlock the door that had been mocking him earlier. He felt almost nervous as he followed her through into Shinra's apartment. Shinra, vivacious as ever, appeared almost immediately after Celty made her way to the living room. This only supported Shizuo's mental telepathy theory.

It was only after welcoming Celty that Shinra's observatory skills even widened enough to notice Shizuo's presence. "Ah! Shizuo! Are you here to see Izaya?"

Shizuo stepped back in shock. "What? Why the hell would I want to see that flea!" he practically bellowed, barely keeping himself from tripping over the coffee table.

Instantly, Celty was trying to calm him down. However, attempting rational thought allowed Shizuo's brain to register the implication of Shinra's words and he went into another rage. "THE FLEA IS HERE?"

"Shizzy-chan, can you keep it down? You're ruining my beauty sleep," called a teasing voice from behind a closed door off to the side of the living room.

With the single-minded determination that only he could possess, Shizuo's eyes locked on the door. There was practically a fiery aura surrounding him as he closed in on the unfortunate locked door between him and Izaya. If the door had a brain, it would've been using it to pray to whatever god a door would have. Shizuo was reaching forward to tear the quailing (if it had a brain) door open when Celty slipped in front of him.

"Move," he grunted, grinding his teeth.

Her shoulders moved and Shinra helpfully interpreted, "She says no."

They were at a stalemate. Shizuo attempting to exact revenge, Celty ridiculously trying to protect Izaya, and Shinra cheerfully watching the whole thing from the couch in the other room. Celty furiously pulled her phone out and typed.

"He's still recovering. He needs to rest not to fight!"

"He shouldn't have nearly died on my floor then," Shizuo snapped, half-heartedly.

Damn Celty. There was no way she was going to let him through the door. Naturally, as soon as that thought pierced his brain, Shizuo darted to the side and punched through the unlucky wall. He could be such a genius sometimes. Plasterboard rained down on him as he carelessly pushed his way through the rubble.

As the haze of dust thinned, Shizuo saw the stretched out figure lounging on a cream bed in the furthest corner. Luckily, none of the rubble had reached him. Unfortunately, Shizuo amended.

"Izaya!" he shouted, moving closer and preparing to upend the bed.

Shinra stepped in. "Shizuo-kun, I wouldn't normally interfere, but there's a real chance that if you do whatever you're planning to Izaya, he'll die."

"Good," Shizuo growled, his fingers itching towards a dresser.

Shinra placed his hands against Shizuo's shoulders, slowing him slightly. "Shizuo, think for a second. He will _die_."

Shizuo bared his teeth. Of course he knew Izaya would die. He _wanted_ him to die.

The dresser felt light in his rage-induced stage and it was already raised above his head before the confusion hit him. Or maybe that was the dresser shelf. It fell to the floor. Probably grateful to be out of the way.

Shizuo began to think. Shinra had sounded as though Shizuo would care if Izaya died. He knew the depths of Shizuo's hatred; why would he act that way? Something was going on.

His cloudy musing had given Celty the time she needed to act, and she pulled the dresser away from him and set it down out of his reach. Shizuo scowled at her as she moved other potential weapons away from him, followed by relocating Shinra. He bared his teeth at her in feral anger.

She typed a message. "You won't harm Izaya. Not today, Shizuo."

Determinedly, Shizuo still stalked forward, disregarding Celty and pulling Izaya out of the bed by the collar of his thin t-shirt. The information broker's toes were brushing the ground frenetically to find purchase but to no avail. This was the only sign that Izaya was not in total control; his trademark Izaya-grin was firmly in place on his lips.

"Shizuo, I didn't want to have to do this but…I'll tell everyone about what happened back in high school if you don't put him down," Shinra warned, more serious than Shizuo remembered seeing him in years.

Shizuo halted. Shock rolled through him. His furious scowl was close to assuming the ability to peel paint off surrounding walls. He released his hold on Izaya abruptly and dropped him inelegantly back onto the bed. Izaya landed with a soft thud back onto the unmade, creamy sheets.

Then Shizuo left, grabbing Celty's arm on the way past. He stomped out of the room through the door this time, already beginning to feel the familiar guilt he experienced after losing control. He let go of Celty, knowing she'd follow him, and stopped just outside of the apartment.

Night had fallen; the beautifying rose light from before was replaced by dark, bruising shadows. They stood in the dimly-lit hallway; their dark clothes making it almost impossible to distinguish them. Excluding Shizuo's brightly dyed hair, of course. That could fill in as a beacon for incoming ships.

The head of hair turned and Celty received the full brunt of a Shizuo-scowl. Taking one glance at Shizuo's expression, Celty began to type _'I'm sure Shinra wouldn't have-'_. Shizuo placed his hand on her arm, drawing her attention back to him.

"Celty, how did he get hurt?"

Despite fighting him for years, Shizuo had never a single flash of pain or fear in Izaya's disconcerting red orbs. When he had lifted him earlier and finally seen Izaya's face in the light though, terror had practically been bleeding from the raven-haired man in uneasy waves.

It was that observation that had stopped him. Izaya was actually _afraid_? The world was falling into madness.

He'd looked closer for a moment and finally took in the ugly shades of brown and blue flowering everywhere under Izaya's near-translucent skin. That's when he'd dropped him.

Out in the hallway, Celty paused and retyped her message. "We don't know. He won't say."

A bolt of anger. Then confusion. Shizuo frowned, unsure of why he had suddenly felt the urge to complete revenge on Izaya's attackers. Surely he should be going to congratulate them, and then maybe ask for some tips; definitely not anything to pay back what had delightfully been dealt to his own hated enemy.

The light from Celty's cell shone into his face as she tried to regain his attention. Shizuo winced and narrowed his eyes to read the luminous screen that had practically been shoved up his nose.

"Are you okay, Shizuo? You're not going to go after them, are you?"

"Why do people keep assuming. And wrongly. Why the fuck would I go after them unless it was to thank the fuckers," Shizuo finally snapped.

Everyone was going insane. They all seemed to think that he would care about Izaya in any way other than whether Shizuo would get to kill him, and how soon it would be. This was all fucked, and suddenly, Shizuo didn't care at all anymore.

Celty was reinitiating her tactic of making him read her words by forcing the electronic as close to his face as physically possibly, but Shizuo swatted her away. "Whatever it is, Celty, I don't want to hear it."

Without more than one or two or maybe even three short glances back at Shinra's apartment door, Shizuo descended the stairs and was unsure of where to go. Once again, he ended up in the park, stretched out on the freezing wooden bench. He supposed this probably wouldn't be good for his back. Well, fuck it. His back could take it.

He fell asleep there, and the nights after, wandering long hours in the evening only to end up at the same place.

Shizuo found himself now unable to stay for too long in the same house as the room with the floor that was permanently stained, even if he couldn't see it.

The most infuriating thing was that he didn't know why.

The fourth day of this new habit of bench-sleeping proved to be a very bad day.

Stirring, Shizuo blearily opened his eyes, an angry glare already naturally settling across his features. "You look kind of cute when you sleep, Shizzy-chan," teased a familiar, loathsome voice.

No. Fuck no.

Shizuo was bolt upright in less than a second, his head frantically twisting from side to side to catch sight of the speaker. He spotted him a moment later, sitting on the back of the bench Shizuo had been sleeping on. The blonde vaguely wondered whether he'd been watching him for a while before his brain kicked itself into gear.

He was already halfway through uprooting the closest object before other thoughts miraculously managed to waylay his initial plan. It had only been four days. And that meant Izaya might still be hurt.

Wait. That was a good thing. It meant Shizuo could catch him easier. Though, it wouldn't exactly be a fair fight…

His warring thoughts jumbled his actions and he was unknowingly still frozen in place, arms loosely wrapped around the metal park bin. Izaya was watching him with deep interest, obviously having not anticipated this action. Or lack thereof.

Shizuo's sleep-and-rage-filled mind finally came to a decision and Shizuo slung words viciously in Izaya's direction in lieu of the metal bin. Slews of insults and curses bubbled forth, mostly incoherent, and Shizuo frowned at the bin he was still holding. What had he been doing with this thing again?

"Just fuck off, flea. I'm in no mood for you today," Shizuo growled out as a parting gift, already slinking off towards his house with that goddamned room and that goddamned stain and that goddamned smell that _just wouldn't piss off_.

Of course, Izaya didn't let him go. "What would be the fun in that, Shizzy-chan?" Izaya chirped behind him.

Shizuo turned only to see that Izaya had skipped away from the bench and followed him along, stepping on leaves and grinning when they made sounds. "Piss. Off."

"So what are we doing today, Shizzy-chan? Can we go to get sushi?" Izaya questioned, sounding infuriatingly upbeat.

Shizuo was close to snapping already. Izaya had only been talking for a few moments and already Shizuo was itching to deck him with the street lamp. He figured he was already into Saint territory for tolerating him thus far. You only needed three miracles for that, right?

"Or maybe we can go to the movies? I hear there's this great romantic comedy," Izaya continued, rambling on about the movie with a false higher-pitched voice that seemed perfectly designed to rupture Shizuo's eardrums.

"Stop. Talking. _Now_," Shizuo ordered, hoping beyond hope that Izaya would finally just shut up – even though he already knew Izaya was most likely physically incapable of complying.

"We could share a popcorn too, and maybe our hands would brush and we'd blush at each other like they do in-"

Shizuo snapped. He wasn't sure if it was because Izaya wouldn't stop, or because he was now talking about a _date_. Maybe later he could sit down and decide, but right now, he didn't give a shit. The street lamp that had been thanking god for its escape earlier was now cursing every god it had ever heard of in its brief life.

The metal screamed as it bent easily in Shizuo's tense hands. The blonde didn't even notice as he'd begun to charge after Izaya who had darted off with his amazing and infuriating dexterity. Wait. Fuck. Just infuriating. Nothing else. Definitely not amazing.

It seemed as though Izaya was not yet up to his usual standard, however, as Shizuo caught him barely a few blocks away. The alley was dark and secluded; only drunks and stray animals ever wandered back here. Shizuo shoved him back against the unforgiving wall with the twisted street lamp, easily holding him in place with no way to escape. Though, this was Izaya. That reminding thought only made Shizuo press the metal further into Izaya's ribs.

It was the sudden grimace at the pressure that drew Shizuo's eyes back to Izaya's detestable face. Their eyes met; Izaya wincing but still managed to stare him down coldly, while Shizuo waited for the usual hatred-fueled rage to overcome him at the sight of those nightmarish eyes.

He waited.

He waited.

Something was wrong. Something was very fucking wrong.

Shizuo took a half-step backwards, leaving him more room to see all of Izaya's face at once. Oh, there it was. That familiar rage was back as Shizuo took in those abhorrent features. Thank Christ.

Then he took his step forward again, focused on Izaya's eyes, and oh fuck, the rage was leaving again. What was going on?

It somehow hit him with a sickening bolt of clarity. He'd seen emotions in those eyes now. He sees them and they're suddenly a reminder that the person he's about to hurt is human and _in pain_.

Disregarding the fact that that 'human' is Izaya, and Shizuo hadn't had any trouble hurting him in the past. Although truth be told, it was generally the other way around.

Trapped in this realisation, Shizuo wanted to be anywhere but right here with the one person that enjoyed the inner turmoil that he was sure was parading across his entire face.

"Hesitating again, Shizzy-chan?" Izaya taunted, somehow managing to sound non-chalant without actually holding any air in his lungs, "Watch out; I might start thinking that maybe you don't hate me after all."

"Don't make that fucking mistake," Shizuo snarled, struggling to come up with the viciousness Izaya deserved and instead falling back on a feeble retort.

The informer and the bodyguard paused. Shizuo had no idea what the other was thinking; well, shit, he barely had any idea what _he_ was thinking. "Love to stay and chat, Shizzy-chan, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave first today."

Shizuo stared back at Izaya, his thoughts still muddled. The blood-red-eyes-with-no- emotion-in-them-but-the-capacity-to met his glare. All of a sudden, they were gone.

Izaya had taken advantage of Shizuo's loose grip and had snaked his way out from under the street lamp, cheerfully jogging off whilst obnoxiously waving a hand in farewell.

Although he'd later deny any such thoughts, Shizuo wondered for a moment whether he'd ever had him trapped at all, and for the first time that Shizuo could ever remember, he let Izaya go.

Then he promptly returned home and ripped up his flooring and threw it out the window.

Now that he was once again able to sleep somewhere with an actual ceiling, another two days passed without serious incident. Nothing further out of the usual than normal: a few broken street signs; a couple of one-sided fist fights; and the purchase of a new refrigerator after accidentally kicking through the cooler door.

On the third morning, Shizuo awoke to a buzzing sound. The irritating sound of a received email. Groaning at the early intrusion, he pulled himself up on his elbows and blindly mashed the keys on his laptop. The incessant buzzing halted and Shizuo sighed in relief before a new sound perforated his sensitive morning eardrums.

It sounded like a hundred chipmunk Izaya's cheering through a microphone. 'But that'd be impossible,' Shizuo sleepily mused, rolling over to return to his blissful rest.

"Shizzy-channnn! Shizzy-channnnnnnnn!"

He couldn't do it. That voice just had a direct link to the anger facilitation part of his brain. Turning around again, he finally opened his eyes and glared straight into Izaya's face. Well, multiple faces. Small and cheerful and almost cute. If it hadn't been Izaya, Shizuo gruffly added.

Numerous mini-Izaya's were skipping around Shizuo's computer screen, leaving a space in the middle for a short message reading: Shizzy-chan! You're my hero~ 3

What. The. _Fuck?_

He was dreaming. He was still fucking dreaming and none of this was making sense because it was all imagined and he had no idea why in the hell he'd be imagining any of this at all unless maybe it was a nightmare. Yes, that was definitely possible.

Shizuo's eyes were locked onto his screen; wanting to believe that this was imagined, yet almost…there was some little part that was hoping a tiny bit that this was real.

"Click!"

The blonde got whiplash from the speed he turned his head towards the voice.

"I-za-ya!"

The brunette was sitting on Shizuo's open window frame, his arms extended while his hands made a square. "Haha! That smile was cute, Shizzy-chan~"

All the blood drained from Shizuo's face. The traitorous smile that had snuck up on him and pasted itself over his face whilst he wasn't paying attention had dropped. "Aww, c'mon Shizzy-chan! You look much nicer when you're happy," Izaya crowed, obviously ecstatic with whatever he had seen.

Shizuo was still mortified, his easy-to-detonate-anger delaying its imminent arrival due to embarrassment at being caught smiling, but more so being caught smiling by Izaya _at_ Izaya.

The blonde had to admit, however, that Izaya's smile was infinitely better than his smirk. This gleeful one he was sporting right now was somewhat disturbing though. Especially as it had just widened. _That _was definitely not good. Probably falling far, far past not good and definitely into you-should-be-sprinting-for-the-door-you-idiot range.

Shizuo's eyes narrowed as he waited to see whatever morbid plan Izaya was currently hatching. He should probably prepare himself by at least _dressing_ instead of lying under his sheets only wearing boxers and a light t-shirt. Alone, that was worrying enough to be only partially dressed in front of Izaya. Who knows what the flea would do?

It was during these musings that Shizuo noticed Izaya had disappeared. Oh shit. He practically sprang out of bed, moving too quickly and tangling his legs in his sheets. He crashed down onto the floor and flailed around in panic, thinking that Izaya was about to creep up and slash him to ribbons simply because he failed to navigate some bedding.

Oh.

There he was, Satan himself.

Standing over him, a delicious grin of glee taking up most of his face.

Fuck. He had to move. Now.

Unfortunately, Izaya was now standing on the edges of the twisted blankets, pinning his legs down and limiting his movement to upper body. Thankfully, upper body strength was more than enough to escape from some flimsy sheets and make Izaya pay.

He reached up, aiming for Izaya's throat, and instead got a handful of hoodie. Nonetheless, he pulled it down, wanting Izaya to come into range of his fists.

He wasn't expecting it when Izaya came willingly, gracefully flopping onto him. The shock rendered him speechless for a moment before he was spluttering in indignation and attempting to unsuccessfully push the broker off. The guy was seriously like a limpet.

"Shizzy-chan, can you shut up for a second?" Izaya requested, a note of unusual irritation entering his tone.

It was the bizarreness of the question rather than the actual question itself that threw Shizuo off and involuntarily made him comply. He'd begun to open his mouth again in order to recommence and intensify his complaints, insults, and curses when an unbelievably soft mouth pushed hesitantly at his dry lips.

They nudged closer and moved over Shizuo's, pressing more heavily and confidently when they met no resistance. After a few rough seconds, Shizuo felt a shuddering swipe of tongue against his bottom lip before the warm mouth above him pulled away.

Shizuo stared in silence, straight into the red eyes hovering over his face. Now that he'd finally begun to see the emotions that were always hidden, he was apparently on a mission to see them all. Or maybe Izaya was just getting less careful, because surely if he'd known his eyes were brimming with anxiety and vulnerability for just a brief second, he would've killed Shizuo in an instant.

That second passed, however, and before Shizuo could finish blinking, Izaya had relocated himself to his perch on the window sill, his eyes again hidden. They were still silent. It had to have been officially the most time they'd spent in each other's presence without taunting or insulting one another.

"So, tomorrow same time, Shizzy-chan?" Izaya quipped, his devious grin back in place as he slipped back into his normal role of Shizzy-chan-agitator.

Shizuo couldn't even reply; not due to shock or lack of creative insults this time, but simply because he didn't know how he wanted to answer. His mind had stopped. Blown up and was leaking out his ears quite probably. He wasn't sure; a rational thought hadn't seemed to have crossed his mind in at least 10 minutes now. Not even an embarrassed, sorry-I'm-late-I'll-be-sooner-next-time weak thought about just maybe kicking Izaya out of his house or putting on some godforsaken _pants_.

At Shizuo's painfully obvious lack of response, Izaya's maniacal grin actually shifted slightly into a smile that was almost endearingly sincere. Then it immediately snapped back into his infuriating smirk and he was speaking.

Shizuo was sure they were words he could understand if his brain was functioning, but it was only after a strange pause that the words finally registered.

"That email was a virus, by the way."

Blonde hair was whipped into his eyes as Shizuo twisted his head towards his laptop. Sure enough, blinking skull and crossbones were flashing incessantly on the screen before the struggling laptop apparently fried itself and the screen went black.

There was a silent pause; Shizuo staring blankly at his laptop screen before turning his eyes towards the grinning, infuriating, almost-kind-of-adorable man sitting precariously at his window.

Then Izaya began to laugh, turning and jumping to escape outside, and Shizuo was grinning recklessly, finally removing himself from the sheets and the floor to start chasing him. By the time Shizuo even made it to the window, Izaya was already halfway down the street. The information broker seemed to sense his eyes and started running dangerously backwards along the road in order to blow Shizuo a deep kiss and shoot him a wink.

Shizuo felt his cheeks involuntarily start to heat up, and he shouted out the window, "I-ZA-YAAA!"

He could practically feel Izaya's intense amusement from here. Izaya's smile widened and before he disappeared into one of the side alleyways he called out, "See you tomorrow, Shizzy-chan~!"


End file.
